"Yes, sir, that is the way; but, Bob, I tell you that thing is not possible. Your father is dead, and we will never see him again. I wish to goodness I could tell you otherwise, but I can't."
"By the way, that reminds me of something Barlow said. He declared that it was no concern of his what he saw, but he can prove that my father isn't dead. He saw some things on that stormy morning that he won't tell to anybody."
"Do you know what they were?" demanded Mr. Gibbons, greatly astonished.
"He said he wouldn't tell them to anybody, much less to me. Now, I think if he were brought before a court of law he would have to tell it; don't it look that way to you?"
"Well, I guess it does. But don't you think it was a blind? He may have said a good many things that he can't prove."
"No, I don't think it was. He told it to my cousin. I don't mind telling you, Mr. Gibbons, that Barlow had a scheme made up to kidnap Ben and me, and send us to sea on board the Smart."
"Why, you don't tell me!" exclaimed the lawyer, growing more amazed.
"Yes, sir; that's his way of doing business. It is his way of making up a crew. He was in a fair way to make a prisoner of Ben. He set his bull-dog and his barkeeper at him, but Ben laid them both out; and just as Barlow grabbed a chair and stepped up to hit Ben with it, Mr. Sprague came in and put a stop to it."
"Well, that beats me! Why didn't he have them arrested?"
"His son urged him not to do it. He evidently thought it best to consult a lawyer first. But I wish I could have my ponies. Mr. Gibbons, suppose you go up there and get them for me."